Bad Language [OPEN]

[William Doyle]

[will]He laughed. “See? It wouldn’t truly work with two divas on the road together. So, how about this instead? You be the main diva and I’ll sweep in and save the band when you get lost in a sea of trouble. Call me and I’ll be there.” A card materialized in his fingers and he offered it to her. “I don’t offer this card all that often, Miss Byron. It has all of my actual personal contact information. Use it wisely.” He was smiling, though, not in the least bit serious.

While he noticed just how enticing she was, sitting there and relaxing, William didn’t take advantage of it. He could at least tell that she wasn’t making a conscious effort to do it, and that was due to the young actresses who had used their sexuality to try and get into his bed. Instead, he took one of her feet into his hands and started working the ache out of it.

William took her question very seriously and considered his answer for a moment before he met her gaze. “For someone with a finite amount of money, I would suggest they put focus on a small charity. While the big ones are very noble causes, a single donator makes very little difference and far more of the donation goes to the charity’s massive overhead than to the people needing it. With a small charity, the people who work for it are unpaid volunteers and the overhead is miniscule compared to something like Furrever Homes or the Red Cross. If you want to feel as if your money is truly making a difference for someone or something in need, find a local charity and pour what you can afford there. Trust me, Norah, they will appreciate it far more than the Red Cross.” That had been exactly what he’d done with Furrever Homes. It had been a local charity centered in a little town two hours away from his home and he’d taken interest.[/will]

[Norah Byron]

[norah]She made a little purring sound when he started rubbing her foot, and for the first time since that initial moment of meeting him Norah acknowledged to herself just how appealing he was. Not just because he had swept in like a well-coiffed avenging angel and fixed this stupid gig, but because he just was. Because he was just about stupidly handsome and because what he had to say was intelligent and he wasn't talking down to her on any level and because his touch was sending little pleasurable tingles up along her legs that she recgonized very well for what they were.

And so her smile was even a bit warmer as she took the card and slipped it into her makeup case (the one thing that went with her absolutely everywhere) and said, "I solemnly swear to only use this information when I want you." And this time the teasing sex in the accompanying look was less automatic, more honestly speculative.

But she sobered when they moved back to the subject of charities. "I keep thinking about schools. About, like, trying to talk to the music department and seeing what it is that they need that ten or twenty thousand dollars will get them. Buy a bunch of band instruments, or new pianos for all the elementary schools, or whatever it is that the teachers themselves say they need. Because my aunt's a music teacher, and every time she gets funding the school district tries to find ways to divert it away from her and give it to other departments. But they can't divert away a piano. I need to figure out a way to square that with my accountant, though." A little laugh. "Also, how bizarre is it that I have an accountant? I only got a checking account nine months ago." Another, harder laugh. Sometimes this stuff kinda blew her mind.[/norah]

[William Doyle]

[will]Her words combined with that teasing look, this time with some actual conscious effort, had interest stirring within him. Instead of shivering, he worked at her foot and carefully switched to the other one. “Careful, or I might get some very ungentlemanly thoughts.” It was the closes William would allow himself to come to acknowledging his own sexual thoughts at the moment. He would never let himself pressure her into feeling like sex was what he was after, because he wasn’t after that specifically, though there were things he’d like.

William switched feet while she spoke. “Hmm…No, they can’t just brush off the gift of a piano. Usually it’s alumni who present these gifts and usually such gifts are for the sports teams. But even non-alumni can take an interest. For example, while not an alum for Detroit City High School, I had a theater built for those students with creative leanings who had nowhere to go.” The students at that school lived hard lives, being sent there because they exhibited signs of dropping out or juvenile delinquency. Seeing as one of his charities had to do with children and prisons, he’d taken an interest in seeing if he could find a way of helping the kids stay in class.

He smiled. “I don’t know if I can relate entirely. I’ve had an accountant for years. Among a few other things.” His smile turned a little sheepish with the admission.[/will]

[Norah Byron]

[norah]When he warned her about 'ungentlemanly' ideas, Norah smiled at him, wide and bright and pleased and a little bit challenging. "See? You're the perfect roadie. Picking up on every wish and desire." She prodded at his knee with her toes, then slid her foot just an inch further up his leg. No further, she wasn't going to start groping him in the middle of her dressing room like some bad Harold Robbins novel. But making her feelings on the matter clear.

She didn't let herself get completely distracted, though. "That's the thing. The music program at my high school doesn't need donations. Nothing at my high school needs donations, I grew up in one of the wealthiest suburbs in the country. But the longer I travel the more I realize how much of what I've got right now was unearned luck. It seems like I ought to try and pay some of that back. Pianos, band instruments, MIDI software, whatever it is that teachers need to help kids believe that anybody can make music if they want to. Music and people being trapped by poverty, those are the two things that really get to me, you know? That hit me at a gut level. I can recognize that Planned Parenthood is a worthy cause, so is Doctors Without Borders and a hundred other charities I can think of. But the ones that get me on a visceral level are music and the way that poverty takes away people's chances."[/norah]

[William Doyle]

[will]William chuckled. “And you are a temptress. Here I am trying to be a good genie and you tease me.” His hands left her foot, moved up her calf and now it wasn’t just a massage to loosen up the muscles, there was something sensual in the way he touched her skin. Still, he checked her face with every movement to make sure he wasn’t crossing an unseen line. Besides, even if she was arousing, he could take her here and now, she had a show to finish. Silently, he promised her that he’d touch her in the ways they both were thinking of, but not now.

Picking up the apple, he pressed it into her hands. “Eat. And back to the subject. Act, then. Don’t try to take the burden of every school onto your shoulders. You can’t. And there are other patrons of the arts out there who have been taking notice and trying to help. What you’re suggesting is more along the lines of specific donations rather than finding a charity. I am on the board of Children of Justice, which helps out those children whose parents, or who they themselves, have been in the system or have been affected by the system. There are brilliant minds among such children, but too often they are looked over as lost causes and left without the options so many of us have. It’s another kind of poverty. The one you speak of is monetary. Don’t donate to a charity because you feel pressured to do so by anyone else. Find something that makes you feel like you’re making a difference. If that means donating music supplies to schools who can’t afford them, then do it.”[/will]

[Norah Byron]

[norah]She tossed the apple a few inches in the air and caught it again. "Can't. Allergic. First proof that you're not actually a dji--genie." She really needed to be careful about dropping the real names and natures of creatures around normies. Usually she was pretty good about it, but usually she didn't get as interested and relaxed in a conversation with a stranger as she was with William.

A sly little smile and she used her thumbnail to carve a smiley face into the fruit. "I used to hate apples, so my mum put faces on them." She tossed it back to him, no further explanation.

The clock on the wall ticked down pitilessly, but she had a few more minutes before she had to change and fix her makeup and hair. "I'll talk to my Dad about how to make it work. He doesn't actually do money things, but he has all the right people for it." Norah's father was a serial entrepreneur. He kept starting software companies and Google and Microsoft kept buying them.[/norah]

[William Doyle]

[will]Surprise filled him and he caught the apple easily. “In that case, I’d like a list of things you and your band is allergic to. If I’m to make troubles go away, it’s necessary information.” If he’d caught the slip, he didn’t show it. William rolled the apple in his hands and then smiled. "I'll save this for later." With a quick nod and a glance at his pocket watch, he placed her feet on the floor and stood. “He probably knows how to advise you best, then. I’ll see you out there.”

William lifted her hand to his lips, eyes on her face and then left her in the dressing room, working his way through the crowd of backstage people to find someone important. He caught the shoulders of a few people along the way, murmured things of importance here and there. By the time he was weaving through the crowd, he felt certain that the rest of the show would go off without a hitch. Unless he’d accidentally poisoned one of the bandmates with his ignorance. Something he really hoped had not happened.[/will]

[Norah Byron]

[norah]As promised and predicted, the second set went off beautifully. The crowd had to be warmed up again from a cold start, but the alcohol helped and the set list was all about the slow rise. By the time they closed with Hold On the audience was jumping around and making a hell of a noise. The band ended the show with a flourish of chords and a cheery wave and then disappeared backstage, only to reappear all of five minutes later to mingle with the guests.

Norah spotted William right away but it took her a good long while to work her way through the crowd. She was good at it. Not as good as she was with the music, but that cheery innocent/sexy thing of hers played well with the fans, and she was just as smiling and affectionate with the awkward IT guys who wanted an iPhone photo with her as she was with the executives who wanted to prove that they weren't going to get thrown off their game by some teenaged piece of ass, band or no band. She offered and accepted hugs, signed a couple of CD cases, turned aside offers romantic and/or sexual with a smile and a gentle turning-aside that at least tried to spare their pride.

She got as far as about ten feet from William and was stopped by a junior management type who wanted to talk about how to get signed by a label. She gave him some basic, sensible advice, none of which he particularly wanted to hear, and then listened as he told her alllllll about his band.[/norah]

[William Doyle]

[will]He had fully intended to let her work her way over to him. It was her crowd and they clearly adored her. And yet he couldn’t just stand by and let her be blindsided by the babbling moron. Fluidly, he slipped through the press of people unnoticed until he slid in next to her and drew her into his side. It was meant to be as possessive and couple-like as it looked. The man actually stopped, dumbfounded by William’s sudden presence. Smiling warmly and filled with a cold politeness, he directed the man to an agent who’d be more than willing to listen to every word about his band before telling him what for.

Gentle, but firm, he guided Norah out of the crowd and once more backstage. He’d caught the eye of several of the other exhausted band members and they had trailed limply behind the duo. William didn’t let go of her until they were well outside the range of prying eyes. Best to fulfill the pretend that she belonged to him rather than break the ‘story’ and let people think she’d used him. He pulled away from her without really pulling away, feeling more than hearing the boys stumble into their dressing room even as he pulled her into hers.

Once he had her seated again, he tugged each of her shoes off silently. “How are your feet? You were beautiful on the stage. If I was your manager, I’d be able to say I was proud of you. I’m not, but I’m still proud.” The upward curve of his lips held teasing.[/will]

[Norah Byron]

[norah]Norah collapsed down onto her chair and groaned with relief. "My God, you really are a genie. I take back everything reasonable I ever said, run away with me and be my road manager? All those corporations or whatever can do without you but I can't." She grinned at him, despite the slight extra fervor in her voice that rang like truth.

She wiggled her bare toes at him but said, "They're fine. Believe it or not, you really do get used to the horrible things eventually. Or, you know, your spine and pelvis deforms. Whichever it is."

Picking up a complicated folding plastic comb-thingie off the table, Norah ran her hair up into a chignon and secured it, then wiped down her throat and shoulders with that damp towel from earlier. She pressed it over her face once, enough for the cooling dampness but not enough to really start scrubbing off full stage makeup, then lifted her head and looked at William.

"I want to be energetic and enthusiastic and go all Manic Pixie at you. Drag you out into Chicago for madcap adventures that will ruin your tie. But William?" A wisp of a smile, "I'm too tired. It's been a hell of a forty-eight hours."

She set the towel down and stood up, moved over to sit on his knee, at least partly to keep him from leaping up and offering to leave. "Come back to the hotel with me, talk to me to keep me awake long enough to eat some room service, and then meet me tomorrow for Manic Pixie Adventures?" She tucked a falling-forward lock of his hair back into the attractive, expensive tumble of it. "I really want a chance to fascinate and compel you. I'm just not up to it tonight. Does your insanely kind good nature extend long enough to be my genie for two more hours tonight and then still come back to be playmates tomorrow?"[/norah]

[William Doyle]

[will]He laughed, warm and happy. "Your offer is very kind. However, we talked about this. Only one diva per band. I'm certain you'd be a lot happier without a competing wardrobe." There was a touch of regret in his voice, though he didn't let it linger.

William would have indeed gotten up to leave but she sat down on him; his smile was gentle and infinitely patient when he tilted his face back to look up at her. "You don't have to be energetic. I'm already fascinated. And yes, I will keep you company tonight for a short time. And I will return in the morning so you can go Manic Pixie on me. I'll even wear something casual, for my wardrobe is extensive and holds more than my collection of suits." Taking note of just how exhausted she was, William got both of them to their feet. "I will meet you outside. Take your time." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and then he left.

When the band as a whole stumbled outside, William and Mickey were waiting next to the open door of a sleek limosine. They made a bit of a show of tucking each one safely inside for the benefit of lingering fans. Mickey followed and William closed the door, signaling the driver to pull out. Deftly avoiding the fools with questions, he slid into his own rental car and followed at a sedate pace.

Some twenty minutes after everyone had made it back to their rooms, timed so that Norah would be able to change and be comfortable, William knocked on her door looking as unruffled and elegant as ever. When she opened it, he was smiling and carrying a second rose. "Good evening, Norah. Might I come in?"[/will]

[Norah Byron]

[norah]When Norah came to the door she was still damp from the shower, her hair a half-curly tumble and her eyes still stained from the stage makeup that would take going at it with a q-tip saturated with almond oil to get all the way clean, but she smiled hugely at William and stepped aside to welcome him in. "I'll admit, there were a few minutes there when I doubted. Genies don't come back twice, do they?"

The room was nothing special, a 'demisuite' in a business class hotel, clearly Lorica was not enjoying the high-roller status that people think of when imagining a record tour. But the air smelled sweetly of the green apple and vanilla scent Norah wore, she was dressed in a simple cream-colored dress that was short but unadorned, and her bare feet moved silently on the carpet as she stepped up to William to accept the rose and then hug him warmly. Well. Warmly plus a two-second extra length to it where she let her body lean against his, her face press briefly into the shoulder of his jacket. After that she was good, though, and took the rose with a smile before leading him over to the table where a meal already waited.

"I had no idea what you like. So I got extra of what I like and counted on your good manners. Club sandwiches, fries, cream of some-special-tomato soup and iced tea. Though at least for the beverages there's a mini bar if you want something else."[/norah]

[William Doyle]

[will]William stepped inside once invited. “Genies come back as oft as they like. It all depends on whether they like you or not.” He took in her dress, but kept some more ungentlemanly reactions hidden under the gentle warmth. He wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, stayed still for her benefit. He didn’t step back until she pulled away.

Only then did his gaze scan the little room and the food laid out. A smile played over his lips. “I’m flexible enough to enjoy whatever you ordered. Never been much of picky eater. Iced tea sounds perfectly wonderful to me. Don’t know if it shows, but I’m not much of a heavy drinker. If I were, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

William had made sure her first rose had made it safely back to her hotel room at some point and he was glad to see it in a vase, looking beautiful in its singularity. While the first one had been red, the second one was white. Whether there was a reason behind the difference or not, Will didn’t say. “I like your room. Comfortable. Bigger ones can feel cold when you’re in them alone.”[/will]

[Norah Byron]

[norah]Norah set the rose in with its darker twin, then came over and sat down at the table, waiting until William joined her before picking up her glass and saying, "Half the time at the after parties I'm just drinking cranberry juice in a martini glass with a twist of lime to make it look like I'm drinking something real. I cant afford to get drunk at those, too many reporters and bloggers."

She settled comfortably into her seat, looking around the room. "This is so much nicer than the places we stay in little towns, you wouldn't believe it. Big cities are our luxury weekends, most of the time it's roadside motels and sleeping in the RV." She didn't sound like she was complaining, though. Really, compared to being a freshman at UC Berkeley? Hard to bitch too much about things.

And now that she had William alone, with no distractions for either of them, she asked him the question that had been nudging at her since she met him. "So what do you like? Other than suits and charities and being a genie. I feel like you've learned a thousand things about how I work and what I need and ways to cater to me, but I still don't know anything about you. I only got your last name off the business card. So..." a sly, challenging smile right before she picked up her soup spoon. "Spill."[/norah]

[William Doyle]

[will]William grinned. “I like the motels. Used to be all I could afford. And, even then, I remember the days when I’d go onsite to a shoot and they’d put me up in a tent. Because that’s all they had left since the stars had the good RVs and the crew had a mixture. It was fun, late night campfires while such-and-such complained that so-and-so was a moron, or other such dramatics.” He sipped at his tea and then leveled his gaze with her.

His smile was slower and more private this time. “I’m not terribly interesting, Norah. Not quite six years ago I was the biggest name in Hollywood. Producer, screenwriter, sometimes-director, I do almost everything there is to do on a set. Except act. Well…there was that one time in New Zealand. Strictly speaking, I don’t think it counted, but still. I like the beach, but I can’t swim. I like children’s smiles, which admittedly sounds like a pedophile despite the fact that I am not. I retired out of Hollywood so I could focus on the charities I’d become a part of.”

He paused, growing more serious. “I’m not particularly fond of sitting a plush leather chair on the top floor of a sky scraper. I prefer playing in the dirt and doing things hands-on. I find it well worth my time. For instance, I tend to my own gardens at home. The roses? I bred them. The only reason they look so good is I like to take plants with me when I travel. Otherwise, it would have been damn near impossible for them to look so wonderful. I am a rich man, Norah. And lonely. Hm, does that make me the Beast?”[/will]